The Silver Lining
by NYPD8433
Summary: What happens after Stella's apartment fire when Mac offers her a room to stay and what does she discover in his apartment that could change everything? An exploration of Mac and Stella's relationship and how it can survive despite the odds. Rating will change for later chapters.
1. Tell Her

**A/N** : This story is set around season 4/5 and starts with the aftermath of Stella's apartment fire. Since this is fiction and I can bend and twist things how I like (how fun!) this has plot lines that were never on the show. It's also assumed that the events of S5E6 ('Enough') and S5E11 ('Forbidden Fruit') have already occurred before Stella's apartment fire, and I've made Mac and Stella a little younger than they are on the show in season 5.

This is my first CSI:NY fic and the first time that I've written for quite a while so I hope that you enjoy it. To be honest, discovering the show and writing this fic has kept me sane lately – it has been a nice bit of escapism from reality. So far I've written this up to chapter 10 and will continue to write it as I upload, since I feel like there is still a lot more to explore in this story. The first chapter is short and sweet, a little appetizer :). Reviews would be appreciated.

 **Chapter 1**

 _Tell Her_

Stella stood in her burnt out apartment contemplating the damage. Her possessions were reduced to ashes; her home had become an inhabitable sooty ruin overnight and her level of tiredness had reached an all-time high. As Mac stepped over the threshold, he saw the worry etched across her elegant Grecian features. Stella's mind ran amok with anxieties of where she would sleep tonight, whether her insurance would cover the sheer amount of damage to her personal property, how she would find another place-

"- _I have an extra room_."

His soft and sincere voice sliced through her hammering thoughts and soothed the intense anxiety. His timbre and the probity of his utterance soothed her like a silken hot chocolate on a frozen winter's evening. She swilled the statement around her head, allowing each word to fully permeate her consciousness and prickle her senses. The soft hairs at the back of her lithe neck arose and a chill tingled up her spine. The overwhelming exhaustion and despondency was momentarily replaced with an electric spark of relief, gladness, gratefulness and a twinge of affection towards Mac that she fought to disguise for the millionth time.

"I owe you one," she forced in a buoyant tone with a weary smile in Mac's direction. Her green eyes flickered across his honest hazel's and he could see that her usual emerald-like orbs had diminished to a sleepy sapped shade of moss.

"That's what partners are for," he smiled matter-of-factly, handing her a much welcomed coffee. His warm fingers graced hers with the slightest of touches as she accepted his gift, sending an uncontrollable wave of endearment through her chest.

She took a sharp intake of breath and audibly sighed, a fraction of her built up stress and tension dissipated into the atmosphere around her.

"Maybe you should sit this one out?" he gingerly suggested.


	2. I'll Be Waiting

**A/N: Apologies for the delay in uploading, I've been on Christmas break. To make it up to you, I'll upload two chapters at once ;). Merry Christmas (and a Happy New Year) everyone. Due to the holiday season and all of the mushy movies I've been watching, I've been inspired to write something Romantically-Christmassy (if that's not a genre, I'm claiming it!)...so I may add that into this story in later chapters. Enjoy :)**

Chapter 2

 _I'll be Waiting_

Stella had the resilience of a lion and an immeasurable stubbornness, but to her own surprise she found herself sipping herbal tea on the Upper East Side on what should have been a work day. Mac was right, she had conceded, she should sit this one out and de-stress. If it was anyone else, she would have protested, asserted her fortitude and pushed through the work day. But it was _Mac_ and he was right about this. He also had a way of dissolving her defenses by somehow reaching out to her and making her feel supported and understood, rather than exposed and vulnerable. There was no one else in Stella's life who she trusted more and who she knew she could rely on. He was her rock, and she had no idea if he even recognized the depth of respect and fondness she had for him.

Mac had handed Stella his spare apartment key and told her to let herself in, but she had felt uneasy about invading his private space whilst he wasn't there. As she gazed out of the coffee house window and onto the street, she idly stroked the cold metal key between her thumb and index finger until it radiated with warmth. The warmth from the key eased her mind in the same way that his voice had done earlier that morning. She pushed away her empty cup and crumpled napkin to walk out towards Madison Avenue.

The air outside was cold and crisp as she stepped from the warmth of the coffee house. Her breath danced around her face in a wispy vapor cloud and she wished that she had a scarf. Pulling the collar of the over-sized trench coat towards her neck and wrapping the belt tightly around her waist, she walked across 5th Avenue towards Central Park. Stella had arranged to meet with Mac during his lunch hour so that he could hand over whatever essentials could be recovered from her apartment. She was hoping for at least her purse since Mac had handed her all of the notes from his wallet, amounting to $25, a copy of his apartment key and his own trench coat - she wanted to at least buy him a small gift of thanks. He would have literally given her the shirt off his back if she had needed it, and knowing that made her heart swell.

She pushed her sentimental notions down as she caught a glimpse of the familiar figure at the entrance to the park next to a hot dog stand, right where he said he would be.

He smiled as he caught her gaze and contemplated how she made beauty look so effortless despite an obvious lack of sleep and no make-up. Mac noted his trench coat draped around her graceful frame. She had adeptly wrapped and tied it in a way that appeared chic, rather than swamped, and for a moment he discreetly admired her casual allure.

"You'll be pleased to know that your credit card and cell phone survived the blaze", he quipped as he pressed a small black purse into her palm and pulled out a slightly charred cell phone from his trouser pocket.

With a sigh of relief, she stuffed her purse into the baggy trench coat and accepted the phone from Mac's outstretched hand.

"God, you're freezing!" she gasped as their hands brushed in transit.

She realized that he was shivering, his lips pursed and his face pale, accentuating his blue eyes. Mac quickly stuffed his cold hands back into his trouser pockets in a vain attempt to appear fine.

"I'm okay", he lied with a small suppressed laugh.

"Oh Mac, here, your coat…" Stella frowned looking down at the knot she had created in the belt and began to quickly untie it from her waist.

She felt his ice cold hands upon hers as he stopped her from frantically undressing.

"No, it's okay. I'll be in a warm office for the rest of the day. Just keep it on until you get back to my apartment. It's fine." She looked back up into Mac's insistent eyes as he placed his hands back into his pockets and sucked cold air through his teeth.

"Well, if you won't take your coat then at least let me get you a hot coffee", she smiled.

"Deal", he half smirked in return.


	3. In The Usual Place

Chapter 3

 _In The Usual Place_

As they walked towards Lexington and 78th where Stella had spent most of the morning at the coffee house, Mac spoke about the case and how it had progressed. He informed Stella about her neighbour, Bonnie, and how she had kidnapped the children in her apartment who had caused the fire as a cry for help. Stella's heart sank for them and she felt a wave of anger towards Bonnie.

"You okay?", his voice jolted her back into the present.

"Yeah, it's just all so sad. God, I'm exhausted." She sighed as she rubbed her head.

Mac looked across to Stella as they neared the coffee house and discreetly inspected her eyes as she spoke. She still hadn't slept, he could tell.

He followed Stella through the door and into a blanketing warmth, taking a seat near the window as she spoke to the barista. He watched as she paid for the order and noted the ash from the fire still on her boots, uncleaned.

"Black, one sugar. Just how you like it", Stella indicated to the large cup as she sat down in the chair opposite Mac.

"Thank you," He smiled, noting her attentiveness to his coffee preference.

Mac rested his arms on the table and laced his cold hands around the coffee mug, his fingers intertwined through the handle.

"Thawing out?" Stella questioned, nodding towards his hands and freeing herself from the trench coat to reveal her neck and collar bones.

"Just about", he smirked, taking in her gaze and investigating her appearance further, whilst she dipped her head in towards her coffee cup. He deduced from her increased tiredness, the ash that remained on her shoes and the soot resting within her sternal notch, that she hadn't gone to his apartment at all this morning. If she had, she would have showered and cleaned her boots and she would have at least tried to rest.

"So where have you been all morning?", he finally inquired feigning preoccupation with the coffee house décor and licking the foam off his top lip with a small smile in her direction.

Stella quickly swallowed a gulp of her latte and furrowed her brows. God, this man was remarkably astute. She looked at him questioningly.

"Why do you ask?", she smiled with incredulity.

"Stel, have you forgotten who you're with? I'm a _detective_ ", he smirked, suppressing a grin.

"Right." She nodded with a smile. "So am I under investigation, _Detective_?".

Mac stifled a small laugh and looked up from his coffee cup.

"Look", he spoke gently, "you're a grown woman. You can do whatever the hell you want", he laughed. "I'm not trying to pry. I'm just concerned for you…you look...exhausted."

Stella observed the candid concern within his bright blue honest eyes and felt an immediate and consuming pang of guilt. He'd done all he could to help her this morning and she could see how ungrateful her behavior may seem. He was so sincere and genuine towards her and it pained her to think she could be shooting bullet holes into his trust.

"Mac…I appreciate this", she said with conviction, holding his key between her fingers. "And I am so grateful for your kindness. It's just…I really didn't want to let myself into your apartment and intrude on your space while you were at the lab, and I just didn't know what to do…I ju-"

"It's okay", Mac almost whispered, placing his hand over hers and grasping it gently.

"You've been through a lot in 24 hours", he consoled looking down at her hand as she stared at his face trying desperately to read every inch of it. Mac turned over Stella's hand and pried open her fingers to delicately remove the key. He held it between his index finger and thumb and brought it up to his eyes, seemingly scrutinizing it.

"I'll let you in", he smiled, finally meeting her gaze.


	4. With The Tired

**Chapter 4**

 _With The Tired..._

Stella stood in Mac's apartment, scanning the charming space around her, trying to understand him better through analysis of everything - from his furniture to the books on his shelves.

"A Study in Scarlet", came a voice from the kitchen doorway. She turned to see Mac leaning against the frame, nodding towards the book that she was looking at on the shelf.

Stella traced the spine of her book with her finger, "Arthur Conan Doyle", she smiled.

" _They say that genius is an infinite capacity for taking pains. It's a very bad definition, but it does apply to detective work_ ", Mac quoted with a wry smile.

Stella chuckled at the truthfulness behind those words and smiled at Mac's appreciation for a good novel.

"So who's your Watson, Holmes?", Stella smirked, glancing over the rest of his collection of books.

"Oh, I'm no Holmes", Mac grinned, passing Stella a fresh cup of coffee.

"If anything, I think I have more of a 'G.I Joe' kinda thing going on", he smirked playfully.

"You're not kidding", she smiled tracing her fingers along frames of pictures filled with unfamiliar faces and military uniforms.

"Was this your battalion?", she inquired, searching for his features among a particular handsome group of young men.

"Yeah. 1ST Battalion, 8th Marines", he stated pointing to a brawny youthful man with dark hair and sparkling eyes.

"That's you?" Stella smiled, hardly containing her admiration for his service and captivation by his rugged looks.

"Well, don't sound too surprised", he joked. "Yeah, Beirut, 82'. That was taken on reccy, outside of the barracks."

She looked across to another photograph of Mac in his full ceremonial uniform, besides a picture of his father in his.

"You must have made him so proud", she thought out loud, stroking over Mac's medals on the photograph.

"I'd like to think so…", he trailed of, sipping the last drop of his coffee.

 **/-/-/-/-/**

His apartment had a warmth about it that made Stella feel safe even whilst Mac was absent. She felt as though she could get a little closer to his mysterious personality through observation of his décor and the little things like the half-finished bagel next to the folded morning newspaper. She felt slightly guilty for perusing around his place, but at the same time, she couldn't resist looking. She was curious about the silly things like what cereal he ate and what shows he had saved on his Tivo (none, she discovered – he was obviously too busy).

Stella sat at Macs desk and flicked the Newton's cradle next to his laptop with her polished fingernail. As the most distal ball kicked outwards it hit a small pile of papers which cascaded to the floor.

"Damnit", she scolded herself with a tut and shake of her head.

She scrambled the papers together on the floor, shuffling them back into a neat pile, seeing that one had drifted slightly beneath the desk. Stella reached under with a groan and picked it up, noticing the stamp at the top center of the paper. No, it couldn't be. She quickly glanced again, confirming the unmistakable eagle, globe and anchor of the United States Marine Corps - she quickly folded it. She hadn't meant to go looking into his private things like this. Anything visible to the naked eye was fine to peruse, after all, Mac _had_ invited her here knowing that she has eyes. But she never intended to open things up or touch anything with the purpose of rifling through his private life. She gently placed the letter back at the top of the little pile in her hands and stood to put them back on Mac's desk. Her fingers hesitated in the air above the papers as she stepped back from the desk.

 _"Why would he be receiving mail from the Corps…?",_ she pondered.

Stella's curiosity got the better of her and she reached down for the letter, flicking it open quickly, as if being fast about it reduced the guilt. She scanned the print for the important details as speedily as she could. Even though she knew Mac wasn't due home until late at night, she still felt a sense of urgency as she held the paper.

 _"_ _ **Re: Return to active duties**_

 _Name: Taylor, McCanna Llwellyn_

 _Rank: Major_

 ** _Report to Permanent Duty Station (PDS):_**  
 _Marine Corps Base Camp Lejeune, Jacksonville, North Carolina_

 ** _1_** ** _ST_** ** _Deployment_** _: Camp Bastion, Helmand Province, Afghanistan"_

Stella felt a void in the pit of her stomach and swallowed down the lump in her throat. _"Helmand. Afghanistan…",_ she thought. She had seen those words plastered across newspapers and running along the bottom of the evening news. He was being deployed to a war zone. Her eyes flicked across the paper, frantically searching for the report to PDS date.

 _"Next week?",_ she sighed in disbelief, her hand reaching up to smooth her furrowed brow.

 _"Why has he not mentioned this?"_ she questioned as she folded the letter and slapped it down onto the pile in exasperation.

They had been colleagues for years, and they were close friends, or so she had thought. Why had he kept this to himself? Returning to the Corps wasn't just something that people did on a whim, especially not during a time of conflict. It took a long time, persistence, planning and certainty to do this. They had not had one conversation about this. He was leaving the Lab, the NYPD, _New York_ \- in one week. He hadn't even hinted towards this.


	5. And Weary

**A/N: This is completely readable without having watched, or recently watched, season 4/5. But I was inspired to write this fic based on a lot of things that happened to Mac in season 4/5 which I personally felt he would not just take lying down. Mac strikes me as stubborn, dutiful, loyal, moral, and a man of principle who expects the respect he deserves. I just couldn't see him being treated as he was in season 4/5 whilst putting up with it. I felt like his character would react, and not in a subtle way. When he walked out of the court room over the Clay Dobson case, that was the Mac I tapped into when the idea for this fic came into my head – a guy who won't sit and be treated with disrespect. Also, I have changed the chapter names to reflect another piece of inspiration for this story, which should become clear quite soon!**

 **Chapter 5**

 _And Weary_

As Mac sat at his desk, he felt a caustic ache in his head from the overwhelming stress of the day. He leaned his forehead onto his palm and rubbed his temple with a groan. His mind kept wandering back to recent events of Sinclair putting pressure on him over the budget. Everything from paperclips and copier toner to the cost effectiveness of Adam's job and the security of the lab. He felt a constant sense of scrutiny. Mac couldn't help but replay his heated discussion with Stella after slamming down the phone on Sinclair…

 _"_ _He's the chief of detectives, Mac. He could let you go if he wanted to.."_

 _"_ _Who's side are you on, Stella?!"_

If anyone was supposed to be on his side at all, he thought it would be Stella. But even after their dinner subsequent to their fiery exchange, he still felt like a lighthouse in a storm. He had no idea if Stella realised how much he cared for her, _loved_ her...how much she meant to him. He felt as though she was completely oblivious to the depth of his affection towards her, but as he contemplated it, he wasn't particularly overt about it, or any of his emotions. Not only did he find that kind of thing difficult at the best of times, but he was her boss and despite their friendship, he knew there was a line that he had to maintain for the sake of professionalism.

He mulled over the lack of support from his superiors when his own career was recently in question, after an encounter with a now deceased suspect on a rooftop. There was no support - it was non-existent. In fact, it was worse than that, his bosses were willing to sacrifice him, despite his innocence, for the image of the NYPD. He was very nearly collateral damage and his whole career and livelihood were almost ruined because of the lack of morality, trust and loyalty of this place. If anyone was acutely aware that Sinclair could get rid of him at the drop of a hat – it was Mac. Stella's words had stung, not just because Mac knew the truth in them, but because they came from Stella's mouth . He felt so tired of Sinclair's upper hand over him, the overbearing anxiety of once again becoming a lamb to the slaughter if his 'I's' weren't dotted and his 'T's' weren't crossed. Mac felt as though he was walking on egg shells, as if people above him were just _waiting_ for him to slip up.

He considered, for the thousandth time, the stifling sense of pressure from his superiors and the alienating lack of understanding from within his team. The team saw him in the field and the lab working on cases, but they barely ever saw the full reality of his job or the full extent of the pressures he was under. They weren't around to see him take the heat from top brass, and they rarely heard the strained phone calls or witnessed the charged meetings in which he fought to defend the lab and its staff. All they ever saw were the negative repercussions of it all – jobs on the line, budget cuts affecting their equipment and wages, and Mac's own patience ebbing away…his temper shortening. He knew that he aggravated his superiors with his resistance to their orders and irritated his subordinates with his eventual yielding to those orders. And himself? Well, Mac was aggravated and irritated from all angles. He felt trapped in a pressure cooker.

His superiors had him under their thumb and his subordinates must loathe him, he sighed.

Why did he always have to be the bearer of bad news? Why did he always have to implement plans that he didn't support? Lately, he felt crushed by the weight of it all. Just sitting here in this building felt claustrophobic…suffocating. Mac felt isolated, like a lone pawn being used in a game that he had never intended to play.

 _"_ _Catch -22. Damned if you do, damned if you don't"_ he lamented as he stretched back in his chair, running his palms down the nape of his neck with a deep exhalation.

Mac had still yet to hand his notice to Sinclair. He was due to leave for Camp Lejeune in a week and as head of the crime lab he was required to give a minimum of one weeks' notice. Accepting that he had to stop delaying this, he reached into his desk drawer and pulled out the sealed letter of resignation.

 _"_ _Enough"_ he resolved as he held the envelope, tapping it in his opposite palm with a grimace.


	6. There's No Escape

**Chapter 6**

 _There's No Escape_

Mac stood with his hands placed into his trouser pockets and his head dipped towards floor as Sinclair read from the paper. A sense of relaxation and relief washed over him, as he shifted his weight and looked up just as Sinclair finished reading.

"Why?" The question hung in the air for a moment.

"Does it matter?" Mac answered candidly with a small arch of his eyebrow. "Whatever reason I give won't change anything. It is what it is, Chief. I'm leaving." Mac had no interest in discussing this, he just knew that he had to go through this obligatory formality with Sinclair before he could leave.

"Mac, despite our disagreements and differences of opinion, you always get the job done. You're the man for this job. What's changed?"

 _"_ _Everything",_ Mac thought, scuffing the carpet with the toe of his shoe and glancing absentmindedly out of the window.

Sinclair was met with silence and a total lack of engagement. As Mac raised his eyes to meet his, Sinclair saw an expression of apathy and resignation, an image of a man who was completely disenchanted. Mac shook his head slightly and chewed the inside of his lip, contemplating everything he wanted to say but never would.

Sinclair waved the letter nonchalantly, "If it's a salary issue…I can't make any promises, Mac, but we can discu-"

"No. No, it's not a _salary_ issue", Mac bit back, trying hard to supress the anger in his throat. Did Sinclair really know him that little, and could he honestly not see the strain he had put on Mac? This job was never about the money.

"No…I just realised what matters to me and where I'm supposed to be", Mac remarked honestly.

Tossing the letter onto the desk as if it was yesterday's news, Sinclair scoffed. "So enlighten me, Mac – _what_ and _where_ is that?", he jabbed.

Sensing the change in Sinclair's demeanour and the lack of sincerity within his inquiry, Mac determined that he was never going to give him the full truth. Sinclair hadn't earned the right to see Mac's vulnerability.

"Loyalty and honour. With a band of brothers", he bit back through gritted teeth.

Sinclair looked on with irritation and confusion as Mac walked out of the office. As he rounded the corner to enter the lab, Danny saw the look of anger painted across Mac's features and decided it was probably an inopportune moment to discuss a breakthrough in their new case. Danny watched discreetly through the glass panelling as Mac sat into his office chair and placed his head in his hands, running them over his face as he raised his head.

Mac was passionate about his work; he loved science, truth, justice and serving this city. But he could no longer deal with the bureaucracy and the lack of appreciation and respect. Over the last few years since Claire had passed away, he had felt himself becoming more and more jaded. Recently he could barely recognise himself, would Claire have wanted this for him? " _No",_ sighed. He wanted Mac back. He wanted to get out of this job, get out of New York, get away from whoever he had become lately and back to who he really was.


	7. To Need A Woman

**Chapter 8**

 _To Need a Woman_

Stella was his only true friend in New York and he had no family left here. But when he really thought about it, he wasn't much of anything to Stella, was he? Sometimes, when he allowed himself to contemplate his emotions, he felt as though he _needed_ her in his life and he could not imagine his life without her in it. But did she need him at all, other than as a friend to chat with over coffee?

He had nothing left in this city to keep him. There was no one who needed him here. It was time to move on.

 **/-/-/-/-/**

 _ **12.01am.**_

Mac twisted the key in his apartment door and quietly stepped into the open plan living space, hoping not to awaken Stella. He clicked the door shut behind him silently, engaging the deadlock and slipping off his work shoes.

As he padded towards the kitchen area he rubbed his tired eyes, yawning as he walked and startling slightly when he saw Stella sat at the breakfast bar with a cup of herbal tea and one of his novels.

"Forgot I was here?", she smiled, looking up over her cup of tea.

"Ah, no…I just thought you'd be asleep. You know it's past midnight, right?" he smirked as he squinted through the tiredness and peeled off his suit jacket to drape over a chair.

"Sorry, is there a night time curfew here?" she laughed.

Mac shot her a smile and went to make himself a coffee.

Stella had been debating whether or not to just confront him about the letter from the Corps and admit to reading it. Waiting for him to tell her could take days or even weeks. What if he never planned on telling her at all? She had tried to get an early night but she just couldn't sleep with worry. She needed to know what was going on in Mac's life and in his head. Stella felt like he was slipping away from her lately and she knew less and less about who he was. He had always had a pretty tough exterior, but previously she had the privilege of being allowed to crack it open occasionally to reveal a kind and caring man beneath the marine/detective armour. Recently though, it was different, and she wanted to break down his walls and get him to talk, at least for his own sake. Whether or not he would be willing to talk at this hour of the night after a long shift at work, she had yet to discover, but she would try.

As Mac sat opposite Stella at the breakfast table, she glanced over his appearance. He looked so tired. He had a subtle 5'Oclock shadow that she never usually got to bear witness to, and his hair was slightly ruffled, presumably due to Mac running his hands through it with stress. Stella noticed that his eyes were pink with tiredness and his irises revealed a darker, sleepier hue than in the day time. As she scanned further she saw the second button of his shirt was undone revealing a wisp of dark hair.

Suddenly she sensed his eyes on her.

"I know. I look dog-rough." He deadpanned, sipping his coffee.

She felt a twinge of embarrassment that he had caught her gazing over at him, she usually managed to skirt her eyes across his body discreetly.

"I didn't want to say…." she chuckled. "Tough day?"

"Oh, like you wouldn't believe", he cracked a half smile and played with the salt shaker between his fingers. "How about you?" he immediately deflected, "How did the apartment hunting go?".

Stella noticed his deflection from himself onto her current problem but overlooked it to indulge him. "I found a couple of suitable places online that I'm going to view tomorrow" she smiled.

"So soon?", he questioned peering over his cup.

Before finding Mac's letter, she hadn't had a particular sense of urgency to find a new apartment, but suddenly she felt as though she was on the brink of homelessness with the knowledge that Mac was leaving next week.

"Hm. Well I don't suppose you want me hanging around here too long", she smiled weakly at him.

He couldn't go through with the façade of small talk any longer. He had to tell her.

"Stel. I need to tell you something."

Mac rested his head in his palms for a moment and sat up again to meet her eyes.

"What's up?", she asked with genuine concern.

"I'm leaving the lab," he cut to the chase. "I handed Sinclair my resignation this afternoon. I have a weeks' notice to work. Whatever cases I leave unfinished, you will take over them as head." Mac stirred his almost empty coffee cup, watching the liquid swirl around hypnotically. "I didn't know when to tell you…or how….but I wanted you to be the first to know, aside from Sinclair." He finally looked up, his tired eyes locking onto her glinting emerald greens.

Reading his letter was one thing, but hearing the words from Mac himself was another. The reality of it hit Stella like a ton of bricks.

"Mac…why?" she managed.

"I just need a change of pace", he brushed off. He was too tired and too emotionally vulnerable to divulge how he really felt. If she made a crack in this dam it would burst tonight. He'd rather talk about this after a decent night's sleep and some time to process everything.

Stella refused to back off. She knew that he was a tough nut to crack but right now, he would be easy if she struck him in the right place. This might be the only opportunity she got to see the real Mac Taylor and get some raw honesty from him. By tomorrow he would be rested, clean shaven, buttoned up…and clammed shut.

"You haven't been yourself recently", she observed, looking at him intently.

He noticed the seriousness in her gaze and chuckled "No?", half questioningly, half conceding, and fully side-stepping.

"Mac, if you need someone to talk to…" She reached across and brushed the back of his hand.

It was such a soft, brief touch, but it did something to Mac. Just that one iota of human contact, of care, of concern...from _her._ It felt like more than anyone had done for him in years. He refused to allow himself to collapse in front of her. But right here, right now, he just wanted her to hold him, to tell him that things were going to be fine, to tell him she loved him. He immediately switched off those feelings as he reminded himself that Stella was his colleague and she had just lost her apartment – he had no reason to feel down about his life in comparison. As much as he could do with a heartfelt conversation, it wasn't appropriate for him to invite her here and then divulge his emotional baggage to her.

"You've just lost your home and you're the one offering _me_ an ear to chew", he reflected sincerely.

"My possessions are replaceable, Mac. You're not".

He turned to her eyes and was met with a look filled with conviction.

"I've reenlisted with the Marine Corps. I'm leaving for Afghanistan at the end of next week", he finally confessed. "I can't do this anymore", he sighed, sliding his NYPD badge away from him on the table.

Stella picked up the badge and stroked her thumb across the metallic numbers.

"Oh, Mac", she grimaced.


	8. You've Got To Know, Pt 1

**Chapter 9**

 _You've Got to Know_

 **A/N: Thank you to everyone who is reading this story and following it with interest – in particular thanks to Lily Moonlight for your encouraging reviews and to those people who have privately messaged me to tell me their thoughts. This is my first fanfiction and I'm really enjoying it and enjoying being a part of this community. I hope you enjoy the rest of the story :).**

 ** _1.03 am_**.

Stella had always prided herself on her strong interrogation skills and her ability to get people to reveal what she knew was in there. Tonight was probably her greatest achievement in that field so far – getting Mac Taylor to open up and speak about his feelings.

She was finally seeing the cracks in his armour as his tiredness weakened his defences to reveal his vulnerabilities. Slowly but surely she was getting to the bottom of this mystery that had plagued her all day and deprived her of sleep tonight.

"Mac, I had no idea you felt so isolated like this. It's not right that you've had to bear the burden of the lab so heavily under Sinclair's orders…", she trailed off, shocked at the level of pressure he had been subjected to, and impressed that he'd withstood it for this long. "But I'm your friend, Mac. Why didn't you talk to me…?". Her eyes bore into his with sadness and compassion, searching for answers.

"Because, Stella, none of us have it easy in our line of work", he glanced over at her seriously. "You have enough on your plate without me adding to it. And besides, I'm your boss. We may be friends, but that line gets blurred with professionalism where work is concerned. Some things…I just couldn't tell you even if I'd wanted to, and other things…well…who really wants coffee with their boss after work, to listen to how bad he's got it and how hard his job is…?", he scoffed.

She listened intently, inwardly sighing at the realization of just how alone he had been feeling.

"You know I'm right", he stated looking up and finally meeting her gaze with certainty in his eyes.

"Well maybe other people don't want to hear it, but I would have listed, Mac. I'm your friend first and foremost, being colleagues is secondary", she almost scathed at him, angered that she was losing him because he didn't realise how much she cared for him. If only he had spoken to her months ago. If he had just come to her and opened up to her before he had let his feelings escalate, she could have helped him, she could have prevented his departure.

"I don't doubt that you would have _listened_ , Stella", he stated, intending more with the words left unsaid that the words he had uttered.

"And what is that supposed to mean?", she finally bit at him, the tone of the conversation suddenly changing.

He let out a frustrated breath, pushing back from his stool and walking away towards the sofa.

"I can't do this, it's like being back at work", he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

Her eyes flared as she gritted her teeth, willing herself not to react hotly.

"Mac", she demanded "unless you're gonna throw me out on to the street for the night, I'm not going anywhere. What do you mean, 'you're sure I would have _listened?'_ ", she followed him into the lounge, sitting on the arm of the sofa as he sat on the seat at the opposite end.

Mac leaned his head back into the sofa and pinched the bridge of his nose, wishing she would drop this whole thing and let him rest. This was like an interrogation; he knew what she was doing - wearing him down until he cracked under exhaustion. He knew she was good at this, and if he hadn't just done two twelve hour shifts back to back he would have resisted her. But maybe it would just be easier to give her what she wanted so that she would let him sleep.

"You would have listened but you wouldn't have cared, Stella", he finally gave in, sleepily sliding down in the sofa and closing his eyes, partly out of exhaustion and partly to shield himself from her reaction. "My problems are mine; not yours", he continued matter-of-factly, turning his head to look at her. "Why would I burden you with them? Just so that you could humour me for half an hour, maybe figure out how the boss ticks so that you could use it to your advantage when the opportunity arose?", he furrowed his brow at her and rested his head back again in frustration.

She felt as though he had just shoved a dagger through her chest and twisted it on the way out.

She more than _cared._ She _loved_ him. Maybe he spoke an element of truth, the lines blurred sometimes when he had to be her boss, despite their friendship. Stella could see how difficult that might be, trying to be friends with someone one day and revealing your feelings to them, whilst keeping them in line and doling out orders and discipline the next. It must be a tough wire to walk and obviously one that Mac felt he could no longer tread. But she would never use his vulnerabilities against him at work, not intentionally. Surely he knew that, surely he didn't think she was vindictive? No, he knew her better than that. He felt vulnerable. He didn't know how to handle it, so he pushed her away.

The realisation hit her – Mac had had two options; give up being her friend or give up being her boss. If he had have given up their friendship entirely she wouldn't even be in his apartment right now. He had chosen to give up being her boss. She didn't know if he recognised this, if that realisation had crossed his mind. By leaving the NYPD, it meant he didn't have to walk that tight rope with her anymore – he could be Mac with her, completely, not Detective Taylor. But he had one final week of being her boss, would he maintain this level of professionalism for the sake of one week? Would he keep pushing her away, keeping her at this safe distance until it was too late…until he was gone?

"Mac", she finally swallowed, holding back her tears, "I _care-_ ", she managed through thick emotions.

He heard the anguish in her tone and turned to look at her, perched there on the arm of the sofa with tears welling in her eyes. He felt like a complete bastard. Suddenly it was revealed to him. She does care, she did all along. Deep down, he knew it, but it had been easier to deny it to himself so long as she never said it. But now it was there, ringing in his ears – the truth he could no longer ignore.

She sniffed briskly, folding her arms across her chest. "-and I would _never…"_ she breathed in sharply to prevent a sob, _"…_ use our _friendship_ to win battles with you at the office", she breathed, biting her lip in frustration, her gaze fierce.

"I'm sorry", he murmured, tentatively risking a glance towards her eyes, feeling an immense guilt fall onto his chest. He was sorry for those words, for pushing her away recently, for not letting her know what was going on with him – not allowing her in. He was sorry for ignoring his feelings for her for so long for the sake of professionalism and pride, and he was sorry that now he could see all this…and he was leaving.


	9. You've Got To Know, Pt 2

**Chapter 10**

 _You've Got To Know, Pt 2_

Silence filled the room. She watched as he carefully considered his next words, wringing his hands together, tensing his jaw.

"I didn't think you saw me as anything other than your boss and your partner, I didn't think our friendship ran deeper than that", he admitted.

"On your part", he quickly clarified, raising more questions in her whirring mind.

"On my part?", she shot him a questioning glace, nodding as she chewed at her bottom lip.

He regretted those three small words immediately. She had latched on to them. He knew she could decipher them quickly, and that they revealed far too much about his feelings for her. Mac was sure she wasn't going to let this drop, either. He felt as though with every sentence he uttered he was adding years to a life sentence.

"And what about on _your part_ , Mac. What have you not been telling me about that?", she asked, the anger still present in her voice but tinged with a tired sadness.

"Stella, this has gotten out of control. I don't want to argue you with you…", he sighed, rising from his seat. "I'm sorry, Stel. I should sleep. We can talk tomorrow", he stated as he walked past her, gently squeezing her shoulder in apology.

"Will you really sleep, Mac? Or will you lay awake wondering how you're going to work this out before the end of the week – before I'm effectively homeless and you're on the other side of the world dodging bullets and bombs", she stated harshly, seeing him halt as his head dropped in the periphery of her gaze.

He walked back the sofa and resumed his seat, leaning forwards and placing his head in his hands, drawing in a deep breath. She was right, he wouldn't sleep at all tonight unless he fixed this.

"On my part?", he finally responded with a sigh. "I care about you, Stella. Probably more than I should and more than you know…and it's painful, seeing you every day professionally and-", he stopped himself abruptly before his words torched this friendship for good.

"…' _and'",_ she softly pushed him. "Mac, you're the most intelligent person I know – you should be able to work this out by yourself. I'm sat in your apartment at 1.30am with tears in my eyes, I've known you for years, we've been friends – or so I thought – for _years_ , _I care_ …", she emphasised, stopping before her voice cracked into the still air.

He looked back at her with a small frown, his face etched with worry. Mac felt like he was stuck in a game of wills, seeing whose poker face would drop first. What was she really saying to him – that she sincerely cared for him deeply as friend and was upset that he couldn't confide in her? Or…?

' _Does she love me?'_ , he ruminated as he wringed his hands, staring down at his feet.

He threw in his cards, taking a risk – what had he got left to lose now anyway?

"…and…not seeing what I feel reflected back at me. Not being able to act on it for fear that it wouldn't be reciprocated…for fear of how that would affect our work…and what that would do to my career if I had read everything wrong", he finally cracked.

Her mouth hung slightly agape as she looked at him. It wasn't overt, but she had finally heard the confession that she had been pushing for. He hadn't declared his love for her or confirmed that he had always carried a torch for her - Mac wasn't as transparent as that, she knew that. But now she knew for certain that this was no longer a conversation about the significance or state of their platonic friendship.

"But what if it was reciprocated, Mac? All along…but you are my _boss…_ and despite our friendship, you keep me at an arm's length - I can feel that. How about _my_ fear? _My_ job? And honestly Mac…for a number of years…I just didn't want to rush you into anything, after Claire", she quietly spoke. "I didn't know how you felt, or if you were ready…how to approach you. And then when you started to date Peyton…I realised I'd left it too late…you were ready and I wasn't there for you…"

His heart began to slow its racing pace as she spoke to him again. There it was, the evidence that he had been searching for all along - this was mutual. This yearning, frustration, uncertainty – it had never been one sided. He knew that they were reading from the same page now, but he wanted it out in the open rather than disguised in carefully selected, non-incriminating words.

"So what are we saying here?", he carefully inquired, looking at her with a sad hopefulness in his eyes.

"That we left this too late, and now we don't have a chance", she sighed, finally shifting to sit beside him on the sofa in resignation.

They sat together for a beat contemplating what had transpired this evening, until Mac's weary voice broke into the silence.

"I'm changing career, Stella - I'm not dead", he stated, raising an eyebrow.

She couldn't help but let out a small but genuine laugh at his words. He had managed to cut through all of the emotion and tension in her body with one simple truth.

"No, you're not", she conceded, "but if we make a decision on this, whatever it is, it's not going to be easy", she stated, meeting his unwavering gaze.


	10. You've Got To Know, Pt 3

**Chapter 10**

 _You've Got To Know, Pt 3_

"Could you not have switched departments? Or changed career…in _New York_? Hell, even worked at the deli on the corner?", she half joked, trying to lift their spirts a little. "It would have made this so much easier", she gesticulated, pointing at both of them.

"No," he chuckled, "I just wanted a clean break and I wanted to do something that I know I'm good at…which is definitely not making sandwiches to order", he smirked. "You know when you just reach a breaking point, and compromise isn't an option any longer…you just have to cut loose?", he asked, unsure if he was being rhetorical or not.

Stella took a breath and looked at him whilst he traced the pattern of sofa throw with his index finger.

"I know sometimes you may not believe it, and I don't know how many times I need to tell you until you hear it - but people care about you Mac – a lot. _I care_ …about you…and about what happens to you."

She watched as he finally looked up to meet her eyes. He nodded slightly in acknowledgement that he had heard her words and then he stood to make another coffee, a distraction from the emotions welling up inside his chest. He flicked on the coffee maker and turned around to lean his palms behind him against the kitchen worktop as he looked back at Stella who was standing in the doorway.

"I just haven't got that message from anyone for a while", he confessed.

"Well, it's here – loud and clear", she stated with a confidence in her voice that she wasn't sure that she had right now.

"I appreciate it, Stella".

"But you're still leaving." She stated, knowing the answer.

"Yeah. I need to do this. I need a fresh start. Get back to what I know for a while." He nodded, feeling the surety in his own voice. "I just wish we'd had this conversation sooner", he mused.

Feeling a sense of guilt for prying the truth out of Mac without being completely honest herself, Stella decided to tell him about the letter.

"I found your Corps letter today, Mac. It was an accident…I was messing around with the Newton's Cradle, out of boredom, and I knocked your papers. Honestly. You know that I'm a bad liar", she smiled unsure of how he would react.

He let out a sigh with a half-smile. "Yeah, I do that all the time…I should really put that somewhere else", he mused distractedly. He really did do that all the time and knew Stella well enough to realize that she wouldn't have sat at his desk specifically to rifle through his mail. He sensed the apologetic tone in her voice and the tension that had suddenly re-developed, and took his opportunity to diffuse it. "Don't worry about it….you didn't read the other opened letter though did you?" he winced.

"No...what was that?" She laughed nervously, suddenly more tense than ever and feeling a sense of exhaustion at the possibility of some other secret he'd kept from her.

"Oh good. No, it was a personal letter…but just in case you did glance over it I guess I should explain. It's uh…I just made an inquiry with a friend of a friend about joining the circus….before I got my reenlistment…it's uhm, it's nothing serious. I guess I was just looking for something completely different."

He looked across at her with a poker face and saw her bewildered and confused expression before bowing his head to hide his grin.

Stella studied him and saw his shoulders shake lightly with a stifled laughter as he looked up with a bright smile that she was sure she hadn't seen on his face for years.

"Mac, I may be a bad liar but you are a _terrible_ liar. What are you trying to do to me, give me an embolism?", she chuckled, mock scolding him.

He looked back up at her and let out a long relieved breath with a tired smile.


	11. You've Got To Know, Pt 4

**Chapter 11**

 _You've Got To Know, Pt 4_

"Look, uh. I'm gonna be gone from here pretty soon" he said, with a brief wave to indicate his apartment. "It's close to work, a good neighbourhood, quiet building – it's safe. If you wanted to stay here, I could put my things into storage and we could trade some paperwork – it's yours if you want it? It's not like I'll be needing it now."

Stella felt her heart swell with his offer and then sink with the sense of finality that it brought. She wanted him to have some kind of an anchor in New York. If he had no job and no apartment, would her ever come back, would she be enough to draw him back to this city? His duty base was in North Carolina so between tours he may never return. She hated that thought, it suddenly consumed her, panicking her heart.

"Mac, I…I can't. You need some place to live when you get back to New York. What about when you return from tours? You'll need some place to stay?" she inquired.

"Well, I'll be stationed out in Jacksonville. I've seen a place that I could rent in North Carolina so that I could stay out there while I'm off duty. I thought it would beat a three-hour commute from New York to get to my duty station when I'm due back at base. When I saw you in your apartment after the fire, I thought it made sense for both of us." He explained, realising that maybe now it wasn't ideal for him to live 600 miles away on a permanent basis.

Stella's heart sank. Mac's whole life was shifting and there was nothing she could do about it. But if he had his mind set on this, then he was right, it did make sense – he didn't need this apartment, and Stella needed somewhere to live, and quickly. But did he have to live in North Carolina between tours? How could they ever even try at a relationship if they never saw one another?

"Maybe you could come visit once in a while?" she mused out loud, gazing across the kitchen as she twiddled a coffee stirrer between her fingers.

Mac could see the sense of sadness and shock in her face, she looked as though she was about to crumble right in front of him. Her eyes were swollen with tears again and she raised her chin, averting her eyes across her shoulder and up to the ceiling to prevent them from escaping. He hadn't planned for this, he thought she would be a little upset, as his friend. He never expected this devastation apparent on her features, he never foresaw their confession of deeper emotions for one another. Mac wanted to reach out to her, hold her, apologise…tell her they could work this out – but he didn't know how to say it and he didn't know how this was going to work, so how could he convince her?

"Of course", he smiled, watching intently as she looked back at him with her eyes submerged.

"I could keep the apartment ready for whenever you come back", she waved at the room with a sad smile shaking through her lips, "some bagels in the cupboard, fresh sheets on the bed, maybe a bottle of something strong in the cabinet….lemme' know", she shrugged jokingly as she looked across at Mac.

Mac smiled warmly at Stella, seeing all of who she was in one moment; beautiful, funny, caring, intelligent, resilient…

"I'm so sorry, Stella", he declared.

She looked back at him questioningly, blinking back the tears in her eyes.

"If I had known that you would react this way. I…", he trailed off, searching desperately for the correct words to say how he felt. "I never intended to hurt you, Stella…I would never do that…I didn't mean for this", he managed. Mac felt the sadness in his chest catch in his throat as his eyes filled with tears. He clenched his jaw, trying to claw back his composure and slowly losing the battle as tiredness overwhelmed him.

She smiled at him understandingly through her own tears, as she witnessed his internal struggle.

"I know, Mac. I never let you know just how much you mean to me."

Her words pierced the atmosphere. They looked at one another in silence, their glistening eyes searching for the words that their lips weren't ready to betray.

Mac shattered the deafening quiet with his tired husky voice, "Need a drink? Cause I sure do…" he asked reaching into a cabinet by the worktop to pull out two glasses. He looked back at Stella, arching an eyebrow in question.

"Why not?", she conceded with a tired smirk.

He placed the glasses onto the counter, "What's your poison?", he asked.

"Whatever you're having."

He poured out two half glasses of whisky and slid one across the counter top to Stella.

They clinked glasses without a word, just a look of understanding finally seeping through their gaze.

 **/-/-/-/-/**

 ** _2.33 am._**

Somewhere between their first and third glass they had settled in the lounge with the TV playing a late night horror movie which neither party was paying particular attention to, except to deride. They had sat at opposite ends of the sofa, quietly enjoying one another's silent company with the TV emitting a hum of sound and colour to placate the atmosphere.

As his tiredness and the effects of the whisky took their toll, Mac began to feel himself relax, knowing that he hadn't ruined his friendship with Stella and that there had actually been a clear step forward in their relationship. His armour had disappeared, his ramparts and battlements were crumbling around him and for once he wasn't resisting this state of vulnerability.

Stella enjoyed seeing this side of Mac, a relaxed personable version with a wicked sense of humour. The side that she got to see outside of work occasionally over coffee or a dinner. He was so easy to talk to outside of work, he matched her intellect and wit like no one else she'd ever known. It didn't hurt that he was charming and ruggedly handsome, especially with his current 5 O'clock shadow now more prominent than earlier in the evening.

"Could you write to me?", he suddenly asked unhesitatingly with a small laugh, looking across to her with his head rested on the sofa.

"Of course", she smiled back "but what would I write about?" she chuckled.

"Oh…anything. _Everything_. Tell me what lunch you ate, what the clouds looked like that morning, who pissed you off at work, how the sub-way ride was, the weather, your hair…anything", he trailed off.

She smiled inwardly at his final suggestion.

"My hair." She stated, nodding with a playful frown. "I could do that." She smiled as she gently bit her tongue between her incisors, shooting him a mischievous grin.

"And what would you write me back?" she questioned.

"Uhm…," he contemplated, "the weather, how many ass-cracks I'd witnessed in the communal shower that morning, lunch, the weather again, stuff about sand", he laughed, sleepily turning to look at her again.

Stella reached across and stroked his face from his temple to his jaw, assessing his beautiful features. She couldn't resist that stubble much longer and she wanted to see the spark in his eyes when he looked at her, that spark that she hadn't seen for months.

His hand reached up and for a moment Stella froze, thinking he was about to push her away. He gently held her hand, brushing his thumb across her fingers and holding her gaze.

"Tell me something." He uttered in a gravelly sleep deprived tone, the bitter-sweet smell of whisky on his breath, wafting over her senses. "Why did it take _this_ for me to realize that I don't want to lose you?"

She let her hand continue its path down his chin to rest on his dress shirt, feeling his strong chest beneath it.

"I could ask you the same question...", she confessed, "...don't rent that place in North Carolina, Mac, come home to me."


	12. How The Strong Get Weak

**Chapter 12**

 _How the Strong Get Weak_

Taking hold of Stella's hand on his chest, Mac adjusted his body to face her and pulled her closer beside him into a warm embrace. He held her tightly against his chest as Stella pressed her face into the crook of his neck. She smiled as she felt the soft hair on his nape brush against her temple and she breathed in his familiar scent, hungrily filling her lungs with it, fearing she wouldn't get this opportunity again for a long time.

As Mac loosened their embrace, Stella reached up to cup his face in her hands, gazing into his sleepy eyes and planting a gentle kiss upon his lips. He reciprocated hesitatingly, disbelieving that this was really happening. He lightly pushed his lips against hers and parted their connection, opening his eyes to find hers. She smiled at him encouragingly, and he leaned back into her, kissing her with more certainty but restraining himself from opening her lips to explore her mouth, urging himself to keep this simple for now. He parted to rest his forehead against the bridge of her nose, smiling at the turn of events. He felt like a kid again, his heart fluttering with excitement and joy over an innocent kiss. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt that way from a kiss, not even a French kiss.

She felt Mac's smile against her skin and looked down to see the serenity in his tired eyes and the soft smile playing over his lips. She smiled back at him as she knew he was feeling the same as her.

"We should sleep, it's almost time to get up again", he whispered, briefly glancing up at the wall clock behind Stella.

Stella looked back at the clock and let out an understanding sigh, breathing warm air against his chin and neck as she sat back beside him. The heat danced along Mac's skin, teasing his senses and relaxing him further into the sofa. He knew that he should probably move away and get to his bed for the sake of comfort and to prevent himself from taking things further than he was physically capable of in his exhausted state. But he was certain that his desires had no chance of getting the better of him in this sleep deprived and slightly intoxicated state. He felt certain that if they moved from this sofa to go to bed, they would either be sleeping separately or Stella would be waking up tomorrow frustrated and disappointed with his efforts. Right now, he would gladly sleep here on the sofa and endure back-ache in the morning for the sake of this closeness to her body. He groaned sleepily, moving his hips to slide further into the sofa and slipped his arm around her waist, drawing her into him.

"Maybe the boss wouldn't mind if I was late in the morning?", she smirked up at him with her eyes sparkling.

"He wouldn't mind at all…but _his_ boss might not be too impressed if _he_ was late", he noted honestly with a smile as he closed his eyes and rested his head back.

"Mmm" she sighed in agreement and nestled into his side, lazily wrapping her arm around his body.

With all the will in the world, Mac could not bring any part of him to move, he just wanted to stay like this forever.

"We should probably move", he drawled, his practical mind still whirring as he began to drift off.

"Yeah…" she agreed, more in acknowledgement that she had heard him than in agreement to his statement .

Minutes passed by as they succumbed to tiredness, feeling each other completely relax against one another, hearing each other's breath become softer as their hearts synchronised in their rested state.

"Night, Mac", she mumbled with a soft smile against his shoulder.

"Night, Stel", he managed between sleepy breaths, feeling his body finally give in to the exhaustion.

 **/-/-/-/-/**

As he moved to stretch out his aching leg Mac sensed a weight upon it preventing him. He gradually opened his eyes as memories of the previous night cascaded back into his consciousness. Somehow, they had managed to sprawl out across the sofa together with Stella nestled between his body and the back of the seat, and Mac teetering on the edge of the sofa. One of his legs was pinned down by one of Stella's, and his chest was secured in place by her arm across his torso. He smiled down at her, watching as she slept lightly, trailing his gaze across her features, over her curly hair and down her body.

He knew he needed to move or else the pins and needles he felt in his left leg would soon disappear into numbness. Carefully, he bent his knee and rotated his ankle, trying to encourage the circulation in his limb without completely disconnecting from the woman beside him.

"Mmm", she stirred against his shoulder.

"Stel…", he let out a breath. "Stella, my leg…I gotta get up", he whispered.

Mac moved again, trying to pry his limb away from hers, this time using his hand to gently push her knee up and remove his body from under her. He froze as he heard her soft chuckle in his ear.

"This your kind of humour?" he asked, arching his eyebrow while nodding towards his trapped leg.

"No," she yawned, "but your attempt at discretion is", she smiled sweetly at him as he turned to meet her gaze.

"You're like a boa constrictor here", he winced, pulling his leg free and turning to rest on his side to look at her.

"Did you know that the boa constrictor can sense heat through its lips?" she sighed groggily against his chest causing a flicker of warmth below his waistband.

He smirked at her sleepy features in amusement and shook his head at her fact sharing at this hour, "Is that correct?".

"Mmhmm" she affirmed, closing her eyes and planting a soft kiss against his lips.

"I didn't even know they _had_ lips...", he mused sleepily, furrowing his brow in bafflement.

Before she could detect any parts of his anatomy which emanated heat right now, he brushed his hand lightly over her hair and turned to sit on the edge of the sofa, running a hand over his shoulder with a stretch and a groan as he felt the stiffness from lying on a sofa all night.

"7.03am", he noted glancing back at her, "just enough time for breakfast and a shower before work. I'll make breakfast, you can take the bathroom first."

With that, Stella slowly sat up behind him crossing a leg in towards her body and positioning the other to the side of Mac's as she massaged into the top of his shoulders, helping him to massage away the pain in his muscles.

"I don't know about you, but my back is not impressed that I slept all night on a sofa" she smiled, pushing deeper into his tissues and causing him to arch his back with relief.

"Nor my leg", he chuckled, then broke their touch and stood abruptly before she misinterpreted him and got ideas about massaging his leg.

"What do you fancy? Eggs? Bagels? Pancakes?", he called as he walked towards the kitchen.

Sensing his sudden coyness, she chuckled under her breath and stood, "Mmm, surprise me", she smirked as she headed towards the bathroom, "but definitely coffee!", she called.


	13. And The Rich Get Poor

**Chapter 13**

 _And the Rich Get Poor_

As the end of her shift neared on Friday evening, Stella walked up to Mac's office, glancing through the glass at his figure. They had barely seen one another since their Monday morning pancakes and coffee, as they were working on separate cases. Mac's current case had him working long hours and he had been pulling back-to-back shifts and nights trying to get it solved in time for his departure from the lab. He didn't want to leave Stella with a case of her own plus bits and pieces of his unfinished case to pick up. The most she had seen of him in the apartment was checking in on him as he slept when she left for work in the morning or a fleeting brush of his lips against her cheek as he left for work when she got home in the evening.

"Hey, boss", she called from the door with a grin.

"Not for long", he called back, signing off his final piece of paperwork as he smiled.

"Done." He pushed back from his desk and looked up to see her leaning against the glass wall smiling at him proudly.

"You look happy", she observed with a wistful smile.

"Relived is probably more accurate, but yeah…", he let out a breath and nodded, gently grabbing his suit jacket and coat.

"Look uh, I've barely seen you all week with this case tying me up and we've been passing like ships in the night at the apartment….", he sighed.

"I know…nature of the job, right?" Stella tilted her head with a soft smile into his eyes.

"Yeah," he met her gaze with a huff, "we still have a lot to talk about…", he mused seriously. "How about dinner?", he questioned as he threw on his coat.

"Yeah, sounds good", she winked at him with a sparkle in her eyes.

"I know an Italian place a few blocks away?" he raised an eyebrow in question.

 **/-/-/-/-/**

"So – how was your last day as Detective Mac Taylor, head of NYPD crime lab?", she smiled at him across their bowls of carbonara.

"Surprisingly good," he chuckled, "Everyone was so supportive. Danny and Lindsay got me this…", he said as he pulled out a little navy box from his trouser pocket and opened it to reveal a silver chain with a tiny locket embossed with the Marine Corps emblem.

"That is so sweet of them, Mac", she gazed at the locket, pressing the side of it and watching as it popped open.

"You need something to put in it now", she mused, chewing on her pasta.

"I was thinking the same. How about we find a photo booth after dinner?", he smirked as he took a sip of his water.

"It would never fit into that locket", she laughed, meeting his gaze and marvelling at how relaxed he was.

"Adam said he would do his thing with a computer and shrink whatever I wanted down to size", he smirked.

"He's a good egg", she chuckled, "…you know the lab will be poorer for losing you".

He looked across questioningly.

"You're the glue that holds the team together", she smiled.

 **/-/-/-/-/**

As they walked along the sidewalk close to Mac's apartment, he stroked the collection of small photographs in his pocket, toying with them absentmindedly as Stella linked her arm through his.

"So what time is your flight tomorrow?", Stella broke into his consciousness.

"11.30 in the morning", he responded, gazing up towards the sky as the first hint of stars began to twinkle in the darkness.

"I'll drive you", she smiled pulling him playfully towards her with her linked arm.

"Thank you", he looked across at her sincerely and stopped at the steps to his building, untangling their arms to frame her face with his hands. "I'm going to miss you", he sighed honestly, leaning forwards to place a delicate kiss on her soft lips, tasting a hint of her chocolate desert. As the warmth of his body radiated towards her she pulled him closer by his waist, deepening their kiss, allowing their tongues to duel for dominance for the first time. Mac mirrored her actions and held onto her hips, enjoying this different kind of intimacy from their previous encounter. He pushed firmly into her mouth, getting lost in their kiss, feeling a tingle run up his spine and his blood dissipate from his head to other areas of his body. He was lost in this moment as complete rapture rushed over him and his heart felt heavy with raw emotion.

He pulled back with a pant, as she gasped for air.

"Stel, I don't know what this is…with you and I. But whatever it is, it makes me happy and I don't want to lose it. I'm so sorry it took me this long…and I'm sorry I never saw tha-"

"Shh", she smiled, pressing her finger against his lips.

"I'm sorry too", she smiled sadly.

"I'm not leaving forever", he squeezed her hand as it hung down at her side.

She leaned forward again, kissing him with more force. Mac moved back slightly to balance himself and raised his hands to push gently at her shoulders, severing their kiss.

"I promise", his eyes bore into hers with conviction. "I'll be back in four months if you can wait that long..."

"Mac, I've already waited years, I don't know if I want to wait four months for you", she pleaded into his eyes.

He furrowed his brows, feeling his stomach drop until he realised what she was insinuating.

"Oh", he swallowed.


	14. Slave to Love Pt 1

**A/N: M rated.**

 **Some of you may have noticed the chapter titles so far, they are of course the lyrics to 'Slave to Love' (Byran Ferry) which was a guiding inspiration, especially for the next couple of chapters ;).**

 **Chapter 14**

 _Slave to Love_

Walking into his apartment Mac turned to place a hand at the base of Stella's back and gently kissed her cheek.

"Let's not rush, we have all night", he whispered into her ear as he removed his coat and gently kicked off his shoes.

Stella let out the breath she was holding as smiled at him devilishly, " _Mac, you tease",_ she thought to herself playfully.

"Coffee?", he smiled boyishly over his shoulder as he walked into the kitchen.

"Sure", she quietly chuckled, sliding down onto his sofa and removing her suit jacket.

"Thanks", she smiled at him as he placed a warm cup into her hands.

"So…about those four months", he cleared his throat sitting down beside Stella, "what if you meet someone?", he questioned.

She gulped down a mouthful of coffee, "Ha. Mac. You _know_ that is not what I meant at all. I've waited at least three years for this", she gestured between them, "I can wait another four months to resume this. I'm not looking for just _anybody_ – I'm waiting for _you_ , Mac. Come on –", she laughed lightly, "we've spent the best part of three years dancing around one another and now that we've finally broken the ice you think I'm going to elope with someone I meet in the next four months?", she looked at him with incredulity.

"I've known stranger things…", he shrugged with a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"I'll be right here." She stated seriously, gazing into his eyes.

"I'll be waiting", he softly smiled at her.

"I just don't want to wait four months until…", she trailed off gazing into his eyes as she ran a finger down his chest wistfully.

"I know", he gently grasped her finger and intertwined his five digits with hers. "I don't particularly want to wait either…but...I didn't want you to think this was a quick fling before I head off to war...something purely physical. And I wanted you to have something to wait for…for you to want me to come back…to wait for me…"

Mac looked at her, his eyes revealing a tentative sadness, "I would have spoken to you a lot more this week if it wasn't for work, you know that?".

"Mac", she sighed with a caring smile, "I know you well enough to know your intentions here…and believe me…you haven't even left yet and I want you back already", she bit the inside of her lip, unable to prevent a tear rolling down her face.

His chest heaved with emotion and he felt he could no longer withhold what he had felt so strongly for so long.

"Stella, I love you", he declared, wiping the stray tear from her cheek and blinking sharply to prevent his own from spilling out.

"I love you too, Mac", she sighed draping her hand around his neck and brushing her lips against his. He smiled into her gentle kiss, moving his coffee cup aside and placing it down on to the table beside him, removing hers from her hand and performing the same action as he deepened their kiss. Her hand disappeared from his neck and he worried he'd advanced to soon until he felt it reappear on his knee and firmly trail up and inwards to the top of his thigh as she continued to push her tongue deeper into his mouth. She moved and gracefully positioned herself tentatively upon his legs. Offering his approval, Mac slid his hands up over her thighs and around her waist to find the crook in the small of her back, placing his palms softly underneath the silken material of her blouse and onto her warm skin, drawing her closer.

With a soft smile, she leant her forehead against his, closing her eyes as he smiled back with a nuzzle against her temple and a stroke of her hips. She placed a delicate kiss across his lips, so light that if his eyes weren't closed to heighten his senses he may never have felt the touch. He slowly lifted his heavy lids and raised his head to discover her eyes sparkling back at him. Tenderly tracing her jawline with the tip of his nose, he found a soft spot beneath her ear to caress with his lips and trace back towards her mouth.

As she planted dizzying kisses around his head, Mac diligently got to work on her skirt, slowly but surely inching it above her thighs, allowing her closer access to his waist and pulling her nearer to his body. Stella could feel the warmth of Mac's breath as his mouth tracked down her neck, sending a tingle up her spine and around her torso. Somehow, he had manged to unbutton her blouse whilst she was distracted with his lips against her throat, and she smiled against his stubble at his nimbleness.

Sensing Stella's lips move against his skin, Mac slid a hand up behind her back, holding her firmly in his lap with the other. He unclasped her bra in one swift move and trailed his free hand around her torso to search for what he had set free, grasping firmly at her breast and pushing his warm tongue into her mouth with desire.

She felt her breath hitch in her throat as he asserted his touch; a sudden sense of arousal rushed through her blood sending a warm glow through her body. She pushed into his lap, hungry to be closer to him, eagerly tugging at his shirt to find his skin. He obliged her demands, assisting to pull at his shirt, popping the buttons somewhere across the room with almost simultaneous clinking upon the wooden floor. She rolled her hips harder into his body, smiling at the groan she received, and helped him to push his arms free from the shirt which now felt like a straightjacket to him.

With his chest exposed to her, she couldn't help but arch her back and run her hands over his pectorals, trailing gently over his scar to grip at his muscular shoulders. As her hips ground into his lap and her fingers traced up his chest it sent an involuntary jolt through Mac's spine and he pushed back with equal force to meet her. Smiling widely at his response, Stella pushed up onto her knees, allowing her curly hair to flow over his head as he pushed her blouse upwards and over her upstretched arms.

He took in the beautiful figure before him, gazing at her tanned skin as the dim lighting refracted luminous flickers off the tiny sweat beads between her breasts, as if she was incandescent with desire. His eyes attentively surveyed her feminine curvatures and glazed hazily with lust as she slid off his knees to step seductively out of her skirt and laced underwear. Before he had a chance to ease her back towards him she bent down to remove his suit pants, deftly unclipping his belt buckle with a jangle that signalled a point of no return. He raised his hips to assist as she strode back atop his lap and pushed down at the belt to remove the pants that she had long hankered to take off this man. Kicking the pants aside, Mac got to work on her legs, slyly gracing her inner thigh with his thumb, dangerously close to her warmth. Feeling his hands so near to her intimacy, she urgently pushed again, gently grazing her teeth along his bottom lip as she released her kiss.

His desire burned against the last piece of material separating them. He tried desperately to distract himself from the throbbing ache and urgent need to be inside of her body, but he was suddenly losing his restraint. An overwhelming need to join as one overtook his body as he firmly thrust between her thighs, pulling her hips into his ache with a frustrated groan.

"Stel…" he huskily breathed beside her ear, placing a yearning warm kiss on her delicate skin.

She responded to his hunger, pulling the waistband from his body and freeing him. He pushed down at the material as he drew her hips closer to him until her desire rested against his own. Feeling the blood coursing through him and the ache reaching intensity, he could no longer resist.

" _I need you, Stel_ ", he rasped against her neck, as she sunk down onto him, engulfing him in her warmth.


	15. Slave to Love Pt 2

**Chapter 15**

 _Slave to Love_

Mac's breath hitched harshly in his throat as he called upon every fibre of his being to relax and not lose his control right there. Stella stilled, allowing herself to accommodate to him and give him a moment to the regain the composure that she could feel him quickly losing. She moved gently once again as she felt him exhale and relax, regaining a thin grasp of control. She ground into his hips gently, giving him chance to adapt to the rhythm and find his pace as she took him in to her further, carefully allowing him a closer union with her body. His breath hitched once again as he was finally joined with her completely.

Mac pushed up instinctively to meet her hips, feeling her respond as she tensed around him and a gasp escaped her parted lips. She rocked more firmly in his lap, stroking her hands over his bare shoulders as she arched into his touch. Witnessing her pleasure increased his arousal and he pulled her closer, bringing her chest to his face and sucking gently at her nipples, feeling as they transformed from soft to hard under the touch of his warm tongue.

"Mac", she breathed, running her hands through his hair and throwing her head back causing her curls to bounce around her shoulders.

He swiftly picked her up by her bottom and gently placed her onto the floor of the apartment, opting for the fluffy rug rather than the cold wooden floor. He needed to be on top of her. He needed to push his hips into hers, drive into her, and hold her hands against the floor as she called his name in pleasure.

He hovered over her, teasing her with kisses at her neck, and rubbing his throbbing heat against her own as she writhed beneath him in frustration.

"Mac!", she urged him through tight breaths.

He continued to suckle at her neck and caress her breasts with his free hand as he placed only a fraction of his desire close to her entrance, feeling her soft wetness emanate warmth through his sensitive skin. He circled his hips teasingly, then pulled away and repeated the movement whilst paying attention to her breasts with his warm lips, one after the other. He could feel himself twitch as she murmured his name between pleading breaths and sharp gasps. Mac smiled down at her beautiful face, watching as her eyes closed in ecstasy and her lips parted to release soft moans as he continued to tease at her with only a fraction of his manhood.

Stella's frustration bubbled over and she wrapped her legs around his waist pulling him sharply towards her.

He let out a strangled gasp as he plunged into her, feeling her heat encompass him once again.

"Stel", he rasped against her neck, unable to control himself any longer, plunging into her again with force, allowing the will of his body to override his desire for prolonging this act.

Stella arched her back off the floor, as he thrust into her over and over, feeling herself nearer the edge. He sensed her urgency and trailed a hand between their bodies, finding the heat between them and stroking gently at first and increasingly more firmly as he thrust faster, encouraged by her moans. She arched upwards as her walls clenched hard around him, and scratched her nails into his back as she released a cry of pleasure. Mac steadied himself with one hand and reached behind to grab a wrist, anchoring it to the ground behind her head. Her free arm dropped back against the floor and he took hold of it, gripping his hand around her wrist as she breathlessly moaned his name against his lips whilst he watched her face contort in ecstasy.

Mac slowed his pace and gently parted their bodies, sensing her need to relax as he kissed her lips tenderly. The desire between his own legs ached and he knew he needed her soon before this moment passed. His hand stroked up her leg, along her hip and up her waist to find her soft breasts again. He squeezed gently as he ran his teeth over her bottom lip, releasing his tender kiss. Stella lay still a moment, gently stroking his back with her fingers and trailing her feet up the back of his legs when she felt him against her inner thigh, his desire still hot and rigid, pressed firmly into her skin.

"Stel", he pleaded against her lips as he pushed gently into her leg.

Recognising his need and her own opportunity to tease him in return for his previous actions, she pushed at his shoulders to turn him onto his back, but he was too strong to move completely, especially in her current state.

Fearing that this was her signal to stop, Mac quickly moved over onto his back and let out a soft frustrated sigh, wondering what he had done wrong. Suddenly she appeared, hovering over him, her breasts right in front of his eyes until she sat astride his thighs and watched as they moved out of reach. He looked up questioningly at her mischievous smirk and glanced at her hand sliding down between them to grasp at his most sensitive area.

Mac let out a sharp gasp at her firm touch and his breath quickened as she slid her hand up and down slowly.

"No!" He gasped as he quickly moved her hand away with his own.

"I can't last…", he rasped. "Not like that. I need...", he panted, meeting her eyes earnestly.

She smiled mischievously at his sudden panic, knowing that she was never going to allow him to go over the edge in her hand. Stella just needed him to want her like nothing ever before, and it had worked.

She leaned up on her knees, allowing her body to slide gently against him, and smiled as she heard him pull air sharply through his teeth.

"Stel, please", he whispered.

Feeling his hips buck into her, she complied and slid over him ever so slightly, watching as his hands sought out her hips as he desperately bucked into her shallowly, her stance disallowing him deeper entrance.

He moaned as he thrust again, searching for her as Stella withdrew, sliding her hands over his navel and up to his chest, observing as his muscles rippled involuntarily with heightened sensitivity and stimulation. Stella sat up again and slid her aching bud up the length of his engorged ache, watching his face as his eyes scrunched and his teeth bit down on his lower lip in exasperation.

"You're not the only tease, Mac", she chuckled, watching his brow furrow as beads of sweat ran down between them.

With that, he rapidly spun over her, regaining his previous position on top of her body and smiled into a deep kiss.

"So you like to play games, huh?", he grinned through a heavy breath as he looked into her eyes.

She smiled back at him with a glint in her eyes, wrapping her legs around his waist to once again urge him on.

He thrust into her, feeling a sudden tightness develop, and quickened the pace, pushing harder and deeper as the intensity of his arousal reached its peak.

"Stel…" he rasped against her ear as he exploded into her, feeling her clench around him again as her back lifted from the floor. Her waves of tension gripped at him like a vice pleasuring him more as he thrust until his own waves elapsed. He pushed again with force as she spilled over yet again and he gently slowed his pace to match her pleasure around his length, smiling at her insatiability.

"I love you", he whispered kissing the corner of her mouth, slowing raising himself onto his elbows and looking into her eyes with an expression that she had never seen across his face – a mixture of love and satisfaction.

"I love you too, Mac", she smiled stroking his face and gently kissing his lips.

/-/-/-/-/

"We have _got_ to stop falling asleep in stupid places", he groaned as he groggily sat up from the floor and rested his back against the bottom of the sofa.

"If I remember correctly, we were on a comfortable sofa until you moved us to the floor", Stella laughed, moving to sit between his legs as he pulled a soft blanket off the sofa over their bodies.

"If _I_ remember correctly, we were drinking coffee until you…", he trailed off with a smirk.

"Is that a complaint?", she smiled leaning her head backwards to meet his gaze, "Cause' next time I'll just drink the damn coffee and go to bed", she chuckled.

"No. No complaints." He acknowledged with a smile, kneading the knots out of her shoulders with his hands.

"3.25am", he noted, looking at the clock in front of them. "We don't have to be up for another three and a half hours. How about we get into bed?", he suggested pragmatically.


End file.
